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Loose Lips Sink Ships

by Andrew Brokos |  Published: Oct 03, 2012

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Andrew BrokosThe phrase “Loose lips sink ships,” was coined as U.S. propaganda during World War II to discourage citizens from sharing any information they may have, either as a result of their job or from family members in the military, about the war effort. The idea was that Axis spies could be anywhere and could use any information, no matter how seemingly innocuous, against the Allies.
Cynical as it may sound, you should have the same attitude when at the poker table. No matter how friendly they are, the other players at the table are your competitors. They want your money, and the more they know about you, the easier it will be for them to get it.

Good Day

With less than two hours of play remaining on the fifth day of the 2010 World Series of Poker main event, I was moved to a new table. Although you should always be alert for table talk that reveals information about who your opponents are and how they play, it’s especially valuable at a new table. You’ll have little experience with your new opponents, but you’ll need to make decisions against them nonetheless. Any little thing you overhear could help you outplay them when you don’t have any other reads.

Two players sitting next to each other and a few seats to my right had the largest stacks at the table. That by itself didn’t tell me much: they could be very good, they could be loose players who caught a few draws, or they could be extremely tight players whose opponents didn’t give them the respect they deserved when they raised with the nuts. Mostly, I was eager to know how they were going to play the rest of the night, and I soon found out.

One of them won yet another sizeable pot and began bragging to the other about how he’d had such a good day and would sleep easy tonight knowing that he had a big stack going into day six. Bear in mind the day was far from over: we still had more than an hour to play! In his mind, though, he’d already bagged up a mountain of chips.

He might as well have tattooed “Bluff Me!” on his forehead. From that moment on, if he wanted to win a pot against me, he was going to have to put that precious big stack at risk, something he’d just made clear he wasn’t going to do.

Even better, the player sitting next to him started celebrating with him. They ordered beers, toasted their success, and checked out for the day. I kept a poker face, but on the inside, I was having a little celebration of my own, because I saw an opportunity to profit from their complacency. Right away, I began raising their blinds, but I was actively looking for an opportunity to run a big bluff.

Finally, it came! I was in the big blind when the first of these players raised and the second called. I knew before I even looked at my cards that I would be reraising. I looked anyway and found Q-6 offsuit. Sticking with my plan, I reraised. The first player folded, and the second called very quickly. That wasn’t ideal, but I knew he couldn’t be too strong. In his state of mind, there was no way he would risk sandbagging with a premium hand.

The flop was 8-4-2, no help to me. I bet big anyway, and my opponent quickly folded, saying “Nice overpair. I missed my set.” Just as I suspected: he was playing an overly cautious strategy, simply trying to flop a set with whatever pair he had and folding to a continuation bet on one of the most innocuous possible flops rather than risk running into a bigger pair. It was his table talk, which mind you had nothing explicitly to do with how he thought about or played the game, that enabled me to win a sizeable pot with literally any two cards.

See You Soon, Honey!

A similar incident occurred in a live $5-$10 no-limit hold‘em cash game. The player on my left was having a good session, playing a lot of hands and running up a nice profit of more than $1,000 in about three hours. As the blind blind approached, he made a phone call to his wife. Of course I heard only his side of the conversation, but it was all I needed to hear:

“Hi, honey…. Yeah really good. I’m up like $1,000. I’m just going to play one more time around the table and then I’ll take off…. Yeah, about twelve more hands…. Like twenty minutes…. Yeah, $1,000!… I know! We can get a nice dinner…. OK, thanks. Love you. See you soon.”

Well now. I think it’s safe to assume this guy won’t be eager to explain to his wife how he lost all that profit in his last twenty minutes – especially since she’ll still probably expect that dinner! I knew from playing with him for several hours that he liked to play a lot of hands, but now I also knew that, like the WSOP players above, he wouldn’t play a big pot without a really big hand.

My strategy was clear: entice him to put some money into the pot on early streets with weak hands, as he was wont to do, and then keep the pressure up until he finally folded. Even if he suspected a bluff, he wasn’t going to pull the trigger now that he’d already told his wife how much he was up.

The action folded to me in the small blind, which was perfect, since I knew I could count on him to defend a really wide range from his big blind. I opened to $50 with JSpade Suit 8Diamond Suit, and he called.

The flop came 10Heart Suit 7Club Suit 4Spade Suit. My gutshot and overcard were just icing on the cake, since I’d already decided that I’d be triple barreling him unless he gave me a really good reason not to. I bet $60, and he called. Even though I was bluffing, that was exactly what I wanted, because I knew he wouldn’t keep it up forever.

The turn brought the QSpade Suit. I bet $120, and he called again. The river was the 5Diamond Suit. I bet $300. He agonized a bit, told me, “I think you missed your draw,” but folded a 7 face-up nonetheless. He didn’t play another hand before the blind came around to him again, at which point he cashed out and presumably went to get that nice dinner.

Given that he’d mentally cashed out his profit some time ago, he should have left then as well. At the very least, he should have kept quiet about it or left the table to call his wife. Instead, a seemingly innocuous conversation cost him $230.

Conclusion

Admittedly, there’s more to poker than money. Many recreational players enjoy the social element of the game and count regular opponents among their best friends. If you really enjoy getting to know your fellow players, then it may make sense for you to be more forthcoming and open about who you are and what’s on your mind. If you choose to do so, however, you should be aware that you may well be costing yourself.
As long as you’re OK with that, then more power to you. If making money is your top priority at the poker table, though, then it pays to button up and, as they say, play your cards close to your chest. ♠

Andrew Brokos is a professional poker player, writer and coach. He’s a member of Poker Stars Team Online and blogs about poker strategy on ThinkingPoker.net. Andrew is also interested in education reform and founded an after-school debate program for urban youth.